Scale of Iron and Horn of Gold
by Sticky-Rubber-Frog
Summary: It has been one year since Eragon had included the Urgals in the ancient magics binding dragons and their riders, and the egg he had given them refuses to hatch. Who will be the first Urgal rider? And what adventures lie ahead in the new rider colony?
1. Owl and Egg

The shrill hooting of an owl woke Mauzha. She scowled sitting up, it had to be very early in the morning, as the sun hadn't even begun to rise. The dark shapes of her three brothers were visible on the other side of the hut, still fast asleep. Mauzha glowered up through the canvas roof, it had to be just above her to be so loud. Cursing silently, she got up from her bedroll, she was a very light sleeper, and would only toss and turn if she tried to go back to bed now. She may as well try to get some of her never ending chores done.

Mauzha was a relatively youthful urgal, but she bore the responsibilities of a much older woman. Ever since her mother had died during the birth of her youngest brother, she had been tasked with the upbringing and care of three rather boisterous little boys. It often seemed like her work was never done. Her father spent most of his time away from the family, hunting the local game for them to eat. So Mauzha was alone in her work most days.

As quietly as she could, Mauzha exited the hut, pausing to collect a bucket. She winced slightly as it clanked. One of her brothers snorted loudly, but he did not wake. Luckily the moon was large, so she didn't have much trouble finding her way to the bank of their local creek in the darkness.

Mauzha knelt on the rocky bank and quickly filled the bucket. The stream flowed directly from the Spine, and was as cold as the ice it had melted from. The mountains loomed on the horizon, solemn sentinels of the village, they always made her feel safe and secure. Especially since the humans of the are were unreasonably terrified of said mountains.

On her way back she stopped and frowned, the torches in front of the Herndall's hut were lit, and smoke could be seen wafting out from the opening on the top of the hut. They were having a meeting of some sort. A shiver of excitement ran through her, perhaps the dragon egg they had been gifted with had finally hatched? It had been almost a year, since Firesword and the dragon Flametongue had visited the Bolvek tribe. They had promised the Urgralgra that they too, would be riders in the new generation. Several months later an elf arrived carrying a single steely gray dragon egg, which was quickly hidden away in the large hut the Herndall called their own. Mauzha had considered herself lucky just to catch a single glimpse of it.

It would be a great honor to the Bolvek tribe if the little dragon was hatched to one of it's members, and whoever became it's life partner would be part of the Urgal's stories forever. But it hadn't even so much as stirred with its shell since it had arrived.

The same owl that had woken her hooted again, and she jumped, startled out of her trance. There was work that needed doing back home, she couldn't afford to waste time staring like a slackjawed idiot. Setting her bucket of water down just a few yards from her hut, she ventured back inside on her tiptoes. After making sure her brothers were still sleeping soundly, she collected her prized copper pot from the wall.

It had been a gift from her father when she had reached adulthood, something he had obtained in the human cities when he had been a warrior for the Varden. Mauzha loved the way the light caught the orange metal, and it was quite a useful cooking utensil.

The rest of her early morning passed without incident, she had started a fire in the pit behind their hut, and set about making a light soup with potatoes and some other vegetables for the family's breakfast. It had just begun to boil as the sun came up over the ridge of the Spine, and the other inhabitants of the village began to stir.

Mauzha's neighbors to the left were the first to wake, they were an older pair of urgals, their children had long since found families of their own. They smiled and waved at her, as they began their own morning routines. It wasn't long before the entire village was bustling with activities, families waking and making their own breakfasts.

A large shadow fell over her, and Mauzha looked up. It was Turgzah, the kull that lived in the hut next to hers. He was practically kneeling over her with a humorous look on his face.

"You're up and moving early as always." He grinned widely, showing of his relatively whole teeth. Mauzha tossed her mane of black shaggy hair over her shoulder, and shrugged.

"The owls keep me up this time of year, with their hooting." She gently stirred the simmering soup with a carved wooden spoon. "I suppose you're here to mooch off more stew?" She raised an eyebrow and looked up at Turgzah.

Turgzah sat on the ground next to Mauzha, taking up half of the little patch of grass in front of her hut they called a yard. He grinned again, "Only if you're offering."

Mauzha scowled and flicked a few droplets of the soup off her spoon at him. "Oh go find your own breakfast Turgzah, a mighty hunter like yourself shouldn't be scavenging off families like mine." Turgzah unsuccessfully ducked under the droplets and caught most of them on his face. It did little to dampen his cheery mood however.

"Oh come on, just this one time, Mauzha? Today is my day to see the dragon egg, after all!" He jeered back. Mauzha heaved a rather grumpy sigh.

"Fine. Just don't eat all of it like you did the last time." She rubbed at her temples, just beneath her horns, as Turgzah ran off back to his hut like an excited young boy. Getting up, Mauzha picked up her bucket with a tiny bit of water remaining, and opened the door to her hut.

"Time to get up, you slugs!" she exclaimed as she snatched away the blankets from each of her younger brothers, one by one. Berrvagh, the eldest curled up into a tight ball and covered his head, but gave no sign of getting up. The middle brother, Tarosh, sat up, rubbing blearily at his eyes. And finally the youngest, and the only Kull of the siblings, Ovraghn, awoke.

Ovraghn was only eight years old, but he was still taller than Mauzha, and took up the greatest ammount of space in the rather tiny hut. But he was a sweet child, and was always much better behaved than his older brothers.

Mauzha helped Tarosh and Ovraghn get dressed in their clothes for the day, while Berrvagh continued to refrain from getting out of bed. She ushered the two young boys out to the pot, where the mooch Turgzah was already waiting, bowl in hand. Rolling her eyes, she sat them both down around the fire and went back inside to deal with the eldest brother.

"Get up, Berrvagh! The lazy urgal never wins fights!" she chastised, but he did not move. Sighing impatiently, Mauzha picked up her bucket, and dumped the last bit of it's water onto her brother. He jumped off his bedroll with a start, and glared at her impetuously. Mauzha returned his glare with an equally imperious one, and merely pointed out the door. "Go have some breakfast if those three have left you any, and when you are done take your bedroll out to dry."

"But you're the one that got it wet-" Berrvagh started to interrupt her but was silenced by the intensity of Mauzha's glare, and trudged outside. Her brothers had long learned not to question Mauzha, lest they be the victim of a rather nasty beating. Luckily for the boys, Mauzha did not dish out such punishments as often as she had seen some other urgal parents. War may be in their blood, but that did not mean they had to beat their own kin senseless.

Turgzah had already dished out soup for Ovraghn and Tarosh, and was beginning to dole out a third for the stubborn Berrvagh when Mauzha exited the hut. She was dismayed by the ammount of soup both her youngest brother and her nosy neighbor were able to put away. Kull always ate way more than an average urgal.

All that was left for her were the very dregs of the soup, and the few potatoes her brothers had skipped over for the bits they preferred. But Mauzha did not complain, it was a great deal better than going hungry. Besides, it was just breakfast.

And so morning moved on to noon in that fashion, Mauzha shooed Turgzah back to his hut so he might prepare to meet the dragon egg, Berrvagh grudgingly hung up his bedroll and a few other blankets to dry, while Ovraghn and Tarosh helped Mauzha wash the pot and the several bowls and utensils used.

Ovraghn however became overly distracted trying to dig up worms near the bank of the stream, so little Tarosh was the most helpful. He looked up at his sister with large eyes.

"What if Turgzah gets the egg to hatch for him? Wouldn't that be so cool!" he dunked his bowl with slightly more enthusiasm than normal.

"It would be very great if Turgzah got the dragon, there would be much honor for him and his family line." Mauzha smiled down at him, "But, he would also have to leave the village for a very long time, wouldn't you miss him?" Tarosh suddenly seemed to sober up.

"Would he have to leave forever?" he now looked absolutely distressed at the idea. While he was rather lazy, Turgzah got along very well with her three brothers, and often played together in the woods.

"He might. Dragon Riders live very far away from here, so far that even dragons take a long time to travel there." Mauzha said, as she scrubbed the inside of her pot with a rag. Tarosh frowned.

"But he could still come back right?"

"Yes, it would just take a few weeks of travel." She frowned. "Or Months. I do not know where exactly Firesword decided to settle, but I know that it is far." Ovraghn approached her and shoved a handful of worms in her face.

"Look I got bait for fishing!" He gleefully waved the worms in front of her. Mauzha smiled and gently pushed his worm filled hands away from her face, "That's wonderful, Ovraghn. You should save them for when Father comes home. I know he loves to fish." The young kull lit up with joy, as did Tarosh.

"I want to go fishing with Father!" He bounced about, almost knocking the now clean bowls into the river. Mauzha quickly collected them and stored them in her pot before standing.

"I'm sure Father would love to take _all_ of us fishing. Now come on, it's almost time for your lessons." She ushered them back to the hut, Tarosh and Berrvahg groaned unhappily, while Ovraghn seemed to care only about his worms. Mauzha pulled a worn hide bag from the hut and gave it to the little Kull. "Here, keep the worms in this so you don't squish all of them." Ovraghn nodden enthusiastically, and, perhaps a little counter productively, began shoving the worms into the bag.

"What do you think Instructor Geshan will be teaching us today?" Tarosh piped up. Berrvahg scowled and replied,

"Probably grappling techniques like we've been learning for the past month. It's like he think's we're stupid because we aren't Kull." He shot a rather jealous look at his youngest brother. Mauzha frowned at him.

"Geshan dosen't think you're stupid. He just spends longer on techniques so you learn them fully. He's the best teacher in this area of the Spine, even if he's missing an eye!" She reached out and bonked Berrvahg between the horns. "Besides, I heard he might take you out practicing for this years upcoming feats of strength." All three boys eyes widened at this.

After the great war, the humans and urgalgra had come to an agreement to test their strengths against each other without killing one another. Last years contest had been a resounding success, and ever since the three brothers, even surly Berrvahg, had been chomping at the bit to get a chance to compete. Berrvahg, all but bolted out of their hut, finally motivated to go to his lesson. Tarosh almost tripped over his feet trying to catch up.

Ovraghn watched them go quietly, then looked back over at Mauzha, holding out the bag of worms. "Take care of my worms while I'm gone please?" Mauzha smiled, taking his bag of worms.

"I will protect them with my life, now go, before you get marked late." She shooed him out of the Hut. It was suddenly very quiet and lonely without her brothers. Mauzha sighed, and hung the bag of worms from one of the many posts. Sitting on her bedroll she opened a decorative wooden box, and pulled out a bone needle and some sinew thread to begin mending clothing.

It was days like this she wished she could be out there learning to fight with her brothers. Truth be told, if she hadn't had to play mother to them, she could. Ugral women didn't usually go to war with the men, but it was usually good for them to receive fighting lessons, just in case. But she didn't resent them for their opportunity, with this training they would grow up to win many battles, and find good mates.

Glancing outside her door she saw Turgzha waving at her, as he walked down the path towards the Herndall's hut. It would be amazing if the dragon hatched for him, one of her very own neighbors, a dragon rider. She snorted back a laugh, perhaps she would be remembered in his songs as the woman who fed the great dragon rider Turgzha breakfast every day...

* * *

Well! They say the hardest part about writing is getting started, and hopefully that was a good enough start! I'd love any feedback and reviews, this is my first time writing a really well thought out and planned fan-fiction.

Stay tuned for the second chapter, I might get to cranking that out soon, as I'm in a productive mood!

Update!- I've finally gotten back into the swing of writing! School and work have been a little unhelpful in that regard, but I've tweaked the end of this chapter and have the second chapter almost good to go! Thank you for reading!


	2. Deer and Drought

Unfortunately for Turgzha, the dragon egg would not hatch for him, just like every other candidate brought before it. Mauzha tried her best to be comforting, but for several days Turgzha hung about his hut in a surprisingly serious depression. Even 'little' Ovraghn couldn't break him out of it with his childish charms and offer of slightly squashed worms. (Although Mauzha wasn't quite sure how a bag of dead worms was supposed to cheer anyone up.)

Mauzha felt for the him, but as days turned into a week, she began to get slightly irritated with Turgzha. In fact this kind of irritation wasn't exactly new to Mauzha. The Kull had great potential, but often wasted it on childish things. He was lazy, most days preferring to hang about chatting or joking, instead of hunting or proving his strength, and this infuriated Mauzha. Turgzha was an incredibly intelligent urgal, as he proved in his rite of passage. He had set out to hunt wolves, fairly standard fare in this area of the Spine. He was gone for months, and most of the village had thought him dead, when instead he had just been waiting patiently for the prime opportunity to take down an entire _pack_ of wolves.

The village had celebrated him the day he had returned, and he could have taken any pick of mates at that moment, but he didn't. He just returned to his hut, skinned a few of the wolves and made silly hats out of the hides. How any woman supposed to take him seriously as a candidate after that, Mauzha didn't really know. As a friend, she was sad for Turgzha, but as an urgal, she was glad such a lazy kull didn't get the free honor of being the first Dragon Rider.

Luckily for Mauzha, halfway through the second week, a welcome distraction arrived. Her father, Malgoth had returned from his hunt at long last. The urgal wasn't a kull, though he was strong, easily carrying the three deer from his hunt on his back. He was covered in his fair share of battlescars, many of them obtained in the Great War, as an ally of the Varden. His shaggy black hair was streaked with gray, and his face was stern, but not unsmiling.

Her three brothers swarmed him, Ovraghn tackling him to the ground in his excitement. Mauzha laughed a bit, but kept her distance, as the reunion turned into somewhat of a friendly brawl. After managing to extract himself, Ovraghn picked up one of the deer by the head and held it out at Mauzha.

"This one is really soft! Can I have its fur as a blanket, Mauzha?" Mauzha pat the deer on the head, in an attempt to placate the boy.  
"I don't think it's big enough to make a blanket for you! Maybe something smaller, though." She said, trying to keep Ovraghn from accidentally splitting the carcass in half with his excitement. The boy bounced about excitedly, before setting the deer back down. Malgoth had gotten back on his feet, and was now ordering the other two brothers to take the other two deer back behind the hut to be properly prepared.

Mauzha sidled up to her father, smiling up at him, "It's good to see you Father, did you have a good hunt?" Her father looked down at her, then ruffled her hair in a friendly manner.  
"Not as good as I was hoping. The streams across the valley seem to be drying up, and it's hurting the herds." He looked concerned, rubbing his cheek where one of his sons had 'accidentally' punched him. "I think we're in for a serious drought this summer, so we better save as much of this meat as we can." Mauzha frowned. Droughts, while common during the summer, weren't pleasant. Most of the streams dried up, and they could only get water by venturing up to the mountain springs. Carrying water was a tedious, and backbreaking task. Not to mention the risk of fire brought by the dry, brittle trees.

"You'd best go let the Herndall know about your theory, I'm sure they'd want to know." She said, groaning inwardly as her brothers attempted to skin one of the deer, accidentally spilling its guts all over the the ground. Her father shook his head.  
"The Herndall know the warning signs of drought better than any of us, besides, they have enough on their plate trying to find a rider for that rock of an egg without being bothered by my concerns." At this Mauzha groaned.  
"Speaking of the egg, Turgzha had his chance at the egg last week."

"Oh did he now? I take it he failed hnh?" Malgoth rolled his eyes. He had never been very happy with the idea of a lazy ram like Turgzha becoming a rider.

"Yes. And he's being a great lump about it like he always is. I was hoping you'd be able to beat some sense into him."

"No promises, but I'll give it a try." Her father sighed again, and began walking off to Turgzha's hut, "Help your brothers with those deer though, before they make a mess of this whole village." He waved a hand at her as he left. With a bit of dread Mauzha turned to see her brothers absolutely mutilating the deer carcass in an attempt to 'butcher' it.

Rolling up the sleeves of her tunic, she set about helping them do it properly. Unfortunately for her that meant she did all the work, while they watched and 'learned'. She set the hides aside to tan at a later date, and set aside a decent portion of the meat for tonight's supper. With the drought coming she decided to set aside the rest to turn into jerky, that would get them through to the rainy season. Her brothers proved slightly more useful for this effort, being more than capable of laying out the now salted meat onto drying racks.

Tarosh seemed quite interested in using the bones, and set a few of the leg bones out in the sun to dry. When Mauzha asked he replied.  
"I want to see if I can carve them like the elders do to make charms that ward away evil." He looked up at her with large eyes. Despite being smaller than both of his brothers, Tarosh was the cleverest, and sometimes was off in his own world. Mauzha patted him on the head.

"I think you'll be able to do it no problem. I'm sure they'd even love to teach you how if you ask nicely and take an offering." She winked at him. The boy almost trembled with excitement, darting into the hut to retrieve some bones he had dried prior, and dashed off to their elderly neighbors hut. Berrvahg scowled after him.

"He's not going to win alot of his battles with his head in the clouds like that." the teenage urgal folded his arms petulantly. He hadn't been much help in the deer preparation. Mauzha rolled her eyes, sitting next to him.

"Just because he's a daydreamer dosen't mean he won't be a good fighter. I'm sure once he gets bigger he'll be able to scuffle with you and Ovraghn properly." Berrvahg just grunted, and rolled his eyes. Mauzha shook her head. He was a difficult boy, just entering the age where he was starting to think about proving himself as a man. No matter what she said he always believed himself to be right. But until he could back up his boasts in battle, Mayzha would always be just a bit exasperated with his attitude. Perhaps when he went out for his rite of strength he would be jolted back to reality, though she wished him no ill will when the time came.

Next door there was quite a commotion, and with a large crash, the back wall of Turgzha's hut came crumbling down as he fell through it. He had a bloodied lip, and looked quite dismayed. Malgoth stood over him arms folded and face scowling.  
"Now will you stop acting like a simpering child? You're an Urgralgra! Get up." he scolded. Turgzha, despite his superior size seemed to have taken quite a beating from the elder urgal. He got to his feet, looking a bit ashamed.

"I'm sorry Malgoth, It won-" He was interrupted by a swift blow to the chest.  
"No, you're not sorry _yet_. Now go make yourself useful and fix your damned hut, it's a mess. Your ancestors would be ashamed." Mauzha's father scowled at the younger Kull, then turned to walk back to his family. Turgzha, while slightly battered, looked a bit less depressed than he had earlier, and he began to gingerly clear the wreckage of his hut.

Berrvagh looked at his father in something akin to awe. "How did you throw him through that wall? He's twice as big as you?" He asked, bouncing around him. His father laughed.  
"The big ones always think they're invincible." he leaned down to look his son in the eye. "But remember, you can always use their size against them, and unbalance them." He winked, and let out a hearty laugh. He looked over at Mauzha. "You won't have to worry about him, I think I made my point very clear."

The urgal woman looked concerned for a brief moment before nodding. "Im glad he's over that dragon. Now if only we could get him to be a useful member of society." She snorted disdainfully. Malgoth raised an eyebrow.  
"Actually I convinced him to come hunting with me next week. We're going to need to help stock up the village in preparation for the drought. At the very least he'll be good for carrying things back." He chuckled again. Mauzha raised both eyebrows looking simultaneously surprise and impressed.  
"Well then, you'll have to teach me whatever trick you used on him someday, Father. I couldn't even get him to leave his hut." Her father just winked and ruffled her hair.

The rest of the evening passed without much fuss. They roasted the venison over a fire, and Mauzha made some forest vegetables to go with it. Malgoth even invite Turgzha over to eat with them once he had patched up most of his hut. Little Tarosh returned slightly late, clutching a roughly carved bone. He presented it to the group, beaming proudly.  
"The elders said this should keep away bad spirits for a few weeks! They said I did a really good job!" he exclaimed. Mauzha took it delicately and looked it over. While crude, she could distinctly make out the shapes of fierce wolves and bears about the bone.

"I'm very proud of you Tarosh, you did a fantastic job." She passed the bone to her father, who offered similar praises. The young ram took his bone back and sat down with the group, practically bursting with excitement. He began to chatter with Ovraghn, who wanted to see the bone. Tarosh however seemed reluctant to give it to his much larger, younger brother, in case he broke it.

Malgoth turned to Berrvagh, "So, Turgzha and I will be going hunting soon, and I'd like you to come with us. It would mean missing out on some of your lessons, but I think it would be valuable for you, especially so close to your rites." The boy perked up, looking over at his father with wide eyes.

"You actually mean it?" He asked. His father nodded.  
"Of course, it's time we finally put you to the test instead of letting you loll about the village like Turgzha over here." He elbowed the kull good naturedly in the ribs. Turgzha laughed nervously, suddenly finding the tip of his left horn fascinating.

"It'll be good to get you out of my hair for a few weeks, eh? I might actually get something done around here," Mauzha jeered at him. Berrvagh just rolled his eyes. Despite her joking, Mauzha was actually a bit jealous of him. Because of her duties here in the village she never got to go out hunting with her father. Little Tarosh began to bounce up and down.

"Can I come too?" He pleaded, trying to look as convincing as possible. Malgoth shook his head.  
"Not this time Tarosh, your horns are still a few seasons from even budding yet. Maybe next year." Tarosh hung his head, "But I'm sure you can use this time to improve your carving, so when you make your first kill you can make proper bone charms." Malgoth smiled at his son. The boy still looked a bit disappointed but it was clear the subject of his carvings had placated him. Ovraghn piped up suddenly.  
"Father I found a bunch of worms. Can we go fishing sometime?" He asked. Malgoth frowned for a brief moment.  
"I'd love to, Ovraghn. But we'd best do it soon before the rivers dry up. So maybe tomorrow " The little kull boy jumped up and down spilling the remains of his dinner all over Tarosh.

"Hooray! Fishing! I will go tell the worms!" With that he scampered away. Leaving Mauzha to pick bits of vegetables out of Tarosh's hair.  
"That boy certainly has enthusiasm. I think he'll make a brilliant warrior one day," Malgoth commented, glancing at Turgzha. Turgzha groaned.  
"Yes I know, and I'm the worst ever and he'll probably have won more battles than me by the time his horns have sprouted I know." He said in a rather whiny tone. Unfortunately all that earned him was a clubbing about the head.

"Stop being so melodramatic, you're a damned kull, Turgzha." Malgoth scolded the larger ram yet again. Turgzha just rubbed his head and shrugged. Despite his attitude, Turgzha helped Mauzha clean up the remains of dinner, and even helped her set the drying meat racks up in the hut so wild animals wouldn't be tempted to steal them.

"If father takes my brothers fishing tommorow, Turgzha, will you come with me to visit Geshan? It's been a very long time since I've had any kind of combat training, and it would be good to practice a little." She asked the kull. Turgzha frowned for a moment, then grinned.  
"Sure, but if he has us spar or anything don't expect me to go easy on you just because you're a girl." he laughed, and Mauzha punched his shoulder.

"Just don't cry when I beat your face into the ground."

* * *

The next day, Mauzha awoke surprisingly well rested, to find her father and her brothers already gone. Most likely out fishing like they said they would. She got to her feet, stretching before donning a set of rather simple leather clothing. While the rams usually wore only loincloths for fighting, it was rather indecent for the dams to wear such little clothing, despite the circumstances. She also took a few moments to examine the condition of her claw like nails, hair, and horns before she left the hut. Despite the fact that any human might consider her a little ugly, Mauzha was fair looking by urgal standards, and liked to look her best for any potential mates. Not that she had any desire to settle down with a family of her own as long as her brothers were still too young to fend for themselves.

She made her way over to Turgzha's hut and knocked on the doorframe. After several moments the sleepy looking kull poked his head out.

"It can't be time to go already...you're always so early Mauzha. It's almost annoying." he sighed heavily, retreating back inside for a few brief moments before joining her outside.  
"What can I say? It's better to be early than to be late." She said, mock scolding him. Turgzha just rolled his eyes.

"You're too young to act like my mother. Lets just go." He began lumbering off in the small training pit just beyond the edge of the village. Geshan was already there, with a group of boys about Tarosh's age, all wrestling in the dirt, trying to beat their opponents into submission. Geshan was a grizzled old war veteran, having seen more wars than most, and lived to tell the tales, despite being a regular sized urgal. The left side of his face was badly disfigured, the eye socket on that side was empty, and he walked with a bit of a limp. He nodded jerkily at Mauzha and Turgzha, but quickly returned his attention to the youngsters he was in charge of for the time. The two waited patiently for several minutes, until all of the groups had produced a winner, and Geshan sent them on their way. Congratulations for the victors, and advice for the losers.

"Now what's a dam like you, and a lazy kull like you doing down at my training pit?" He asked. His voice gravelly even by urgal standards. Mauzha raised her head, baring her throat at the ram.  
"I've come for a bit of battle practice, if you don't mind, honorable Geshan?" She asked. Turgzha remained silent looking a bit irritated. Geshan snorted at Mauzha.  
"Never a bad time for more battle practice, even for you dams. I suppose you probably want to spar with Lazy here? Not much honor for him in beating a woman, but I suppose one like him could use every victory he can get." The elderly urgal snorted derisively, and limped about the side of the pit. "Well go on, get in there and get to it, there's only so much daylight and I've another class after midday." he folded his arms behind his back and humphed.

Mauzha jumped into the pit eagerly, waiting for the rather reluctant and slightly insulted looking Turgzha to enter the ring with her.  
"Lets make this fast huh?" He asked, scowling. Instead of replying, Mauzha leaped at him, trying to use his larger size against him, and knock him to the ground. Turgzha proved to be just a little bit faster than she had expected however, and managed to move out of the way, just in time. The kull retaliated by striking her across the shoulders, knocking her down with the sheer power of the blow. She gasped for breath for a moment, before scrambling to her feet opposite Turgzha.

He looked just a bit concerned, possibly for her safety, or perhaps for his honor, Mauzha wasn't quite sure. Either way she dashed foreward again, as if to repeat the same action. Turgzha attempted to evade her in the same manner as before, only to discover it was, in fact a feint. Mauzha took ahold of his right arm, and dragged it twoards the ground, unbalancing him. Turgzha fell to the ground, just as planned, his momentum and weight acting as his downfall. Mauzha bent his arm back across his back, and held it there, effectively pinning him.  
"Was that fast enough, Turgzha?" She taunted. The kull grunted, and shoved her off of him, getting to his feet.

"Whatever." he spat, and stomped off into the woods. Mauzha sat in the dirt looking after him, a baffled expression on her face.

"Looks like you hurt his pride real good there, Mauzha." Geshan scoffed, looking down at her. "Not that he had any pride to begin with. But good job. He might not have been a particularly strong opponent, but he was still twice your size." Mauzha nodded, getting to her feet. She bared her throat to Geshan once more before taking her leave. She wandered into the forest, after Turgzha. The dry leaves were incredibly loud and crunchy under her feet, so she had no chance of sneaking up on him.

Luckily she found him sitting next to the stream behind the village, knees pulled up to his chest. He was scowling at the slightly smaller than usual trickle with such ferocity Mauzha thought the water might burst into flames.

"...Are you alright, Turgzha?" She asked, folding her arms in front of her chest. Turgzha didn't reply for several moments.

"I suppose it's my fault for throwing a fit, but I was just beaten by a girl, Mauzha." He didn't look up at her. Mauzha squatted down next to him, picking up a leaf and twirling it in her fingers.

"Would it have made you feel better to beat a girl?" She asked, eyebrow raised. Turgzha shrugged his massive shoulders.

"No. And I know it was just a for fun practice fight...But Geshan always has a way of getting under my skin." He turned to look down the stream.

"But if you weren't lazy and actually tried to fight and got experience-" Turgzha interrupted her, holding up a hand.  
"No one seems to understand a key concept here. I don't actually -enjoy- fighting." He scowled down at her. Mauzha just stared at him like he had grown an extra head.

"B-but you're a kull! If anything you should want to fight even more!" She protested, and the ram just shook his head.

"Sure. Fight and die. Super noble, super honorable, super legendary." he spat. "But it still doesn't change the fact that you die. Usually in some awful, gory, manner." Mauzha just shook her head.  
"You talk like a stupid human with that kind of attitude!" Mauzha grabbed a hold of one of his horns and gave his head a good shake. Turgzha didn't reply, but jerked his head away looking moodier than ever. "I think this is all just because you're still upset the dragon didn't choose you."

"I don't even care about that stupid dragon anymore." He stood up, "I'm going for a walk, and don't follow me." He snapped at Mauzha, before walking off deeper into the woods again. Mauzha got to her feet, dusting off the bits of leaf from her clothing.  
"Rams." She commented to the air, before turning back twards the village. Despite her disbelief she couldn't help but be concerned that there was something seriously wrong with Turgzha. What kind of urgal didn't enjoy fighting? He would never have a family, or friends for that matter with that kind of attitude. She looked up at the sky, the sun burning brightly just above the Spine.

Despite it's brightness, Mauzha couldn't suppress an ominous feeling about the weeks to come.

* * *

Phew! Finally out with chapter two! I hope you guys like it, I'll try my very best to get the next chapter out sooner than I did this one! Thanks for reading!


	3. Bones and Flame

The sun was beginning to set by the time Malgoth and Mauzha's three brothers returned from their fishing trip. Malgoth carried the majority of their catch, two lines of the small, yet rather tasty, fish that lived in the nearby stream. While it looked like a lot of fish, Mauzha knew it would probably only feed them for a day or two, knowing her youngest brother's appetite, and Turgzha's tendency to muscle his way into their mealtimes. But her brothers looked incredibly proud of their work, and she was glad that their food supplies would last. Even if it was just a day or two extra.

"That's quite the catch boys, I suppose you all want to eat that for dinner now, hmm?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. Tarosh and Ovraghn bounced about excitedly exclaiming that they would love to eat the fish for dinner, while Berrvagh just nodded slightly in agreement. Malgoth held the majority of the fish out in front of the boys.

"Well here's your chance. You get to clean them and cook them yourselves." He said, smirking ever so slightly. The boys stopped in their tracks, looking up at him aghast.

"B-but Mauzha is a great cook! You don't want us to make you dinner!" Berrvagh protested. Malgoth chuckled.  
"That's why you're only making your own dinner. Mauzha is going to make _my _dinner." He gave the second string of fish to his very amused daughter. "It's about time you three slugs learned to take care of some of the housework here." The boys grudgingly accepted their task, and even started their own fire in a separate fire pit (after a few spectacular failures), while Mauzha cooked her and her father a bit of fish stew.

Berrvagh and Ovraghn both overcooked their fish, and sat nibbling unhappily on the burnt remains, while Tarosh seemed to have the most success. Berrvagh tried to steal it from him, but only ended up getting kicked in the stomach. Mauzha smiled at their antics, and glanced over at her father.

"Tarosh is the cleverest of the bunch. I think he'd make a wonderful general of some kind someday." She commented. Malgoth nodded in agreement.

"Once he gets bigger, and a little stronger I think. If he's anything like Berrvagh, he'll be incredibly successful." He folded his arms and stared into the fire. "So where's Turgzha? I half expected him to edge in on our dinner." He looked at Mauzha, brow raised.

Mauzha scowled, setting her bowl to the side.  
"Turgzha is off being a fool. I told him off and he ran away into the woods." She waves a hand in the general direction Turgzha had gone earlier. "He's got it in his head that he dosen't want to fight."

At this Malgoth laughed.

"What a strange ram, that one. I hope for his sake it's just a phase, or else he'll have to live with a great deal of shame his entire life." Mauzha's father snorted, and got to his feet. "If he's not back tomorrow morning I'm taking Berrvagh out without him. It'd be his loss." Mauzha nodded her head in agreement, though she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for poor, confused Turgzha. As her father said, a ram that won no battles would know nothing but shame and dishonor his entire life. Turgzha was a good friend, and she didn't want to see that happen to him.

As the sun finally sank behind the Spine, Mauzha took their plates and bowls from that night's dinner to the stream for cleaning. She was incredibly relieved to find the little stream still bubbling energetically, despite the cruel burning heat of the day. As long as this little stream remained wet, life in the village would go on as usual.

* * *

That night Mauzha had a difficult time sleeping. The thought of Turgzha out in the wilderness, alone and confused worried her greatly, although Turgzha had proven more than once he was perfectly capable of surviving out there. She couldn't help but think of every awful scenario that would have caused Turgzha to come to the strange revelation that he did not like to fight. She was plagued by visions of evil magics, and even curses that could have been placed on him by other spiteful urgals, or even the treacherous humans beyond the Spine. After much tossing and turning, she managed to sink into a restless sleep.

A haunting nightmare of flames, and thick ash clouds was all she was given that night. In her dreams, she was trapped within walls of fire, with no escape on either side, the screams of some unknown animal and urgals came from beyond them. She awoke in a cold sweat, trembling. Mauzha stood up from her bedroll, and wandered out of the hut. It was still dark outside, the starry sky twinkled merrily at her, ignorant of her distress. She sat down in front of the empty fire pit, rubbing her arms.

The ashes held no real comfort for her, but it was better than returning to her bedroll and trying to sleep again. It was several hours before the sun began to peek over the edge of the Spine in a warm, yellow sunrise. She could hear people moving about in the hut, and eventually her father came out to sit with her.

"Are you still not sleeping well, daughter?" He inquired, folding his arms against his chest. Mauzha shook her head.  
"Most nights I sleep fine, I just had a bad dream is all. It's nothing." She insisted. Malgoth shrugged, but dropped the subject. He frowned, and looked thoughtful for a few moments, then said.  
"I've been thinking..." he spoke slowly, almost cautiously. "When I go out with Berrvagh today, it will be to set him upon the wilds to prove himself as a man." Mauzha's eyebrows shot up.

"You really think so?" She asked. He nodded.

"His horns are coming in, and there are more challenges in the forest while the animals are still healthy, and not weakened by drought or chill." Malgoth said, almost as if he was convincing himself as well as Mauzha. "I think he's ready."

Mauzha frowned, poking at the ash pile with a stick. "If you think him ready, Father. I won't disagree with you." She couldn't help but feel a few motherly pangs of fear for her brother. The tip of the stick broke of inside a piece of sturdy charcoal. "But it will be good for him. He is restless, and needs a chance to go out into the world and make a name for himself." She smiled feebly up at her father. Malgoth nodded, and turned to look at the hut.

"Well, I must go consult with the Herndall, at any rate. To make it official, of course." he winked at Mauzha. "If he wakes anytime soon let him know I will be back for him shortly." With that he got to his feet and stomped away, deeper into the village. Her stomach knotted itself up, and she was filled with dread. Since her mother's death she had been charged with the upbringing of her brothers, and while it was their way of life, she wasn't sure she would be able to face her mother in the afterlife if Berrvagh perished on his quest.

Mauzha grimaced, and she turned to peer behind her hut at Turgzha's. It appeared untouched from yesterday. The back wall still repaired in a rather ramshackle way. Cautiously she crept over to it and peered inside. It was empty and, much to her surprise, much neater than she had expected. A trio of grizzled wolf pelts hung on the far wall, she recognized them as a few of the ones he had slain during his coming of age. A sound behind her startled her. She spun around, to find herself face to face with Tarosh. The boy looked sad.

"Is Turgzha still gone?" He asked, looking almost mopey. Mauzha nodded, ruffling his hair.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon." She tried to give him a reassuring smile. Tarosh just sighed.

"I hope you're right. He was fun to hang out with." He produced a small bone charm carved into the crude visage of a snarling wolf. "I wanted to give this to him to cheer him up, because I know he's still sad about the dragon." Mauzha looked at her brother for a few moments, then pulled him into an embrace.

"Don't be so sad, little brother. He will be back, I'm sure of it." She smirked slightly, "Would you like to help me make breakfast for your lazy brothers?" Tarosh at first looked a little hesitant, chores weren't exactly anyone's idea of fun. But he relented and beamed up at his sister. "Alright, as long as I get first share!"

* * *

It was almost noon by the time Malgoth returned. A rather light breakfast of thin roasted strips of deer meat and a berry jelly had been served. True to her word, Tarosh was given the first helping, though Berrvagh complained vociferously. This resulted in a tussle that nearly upset poor Ovraghn's own meal, causing him to join in the fray. Mauzha refrained from entering the brawl, but watched with veiled amusement to make sure neither of them put out an eye.

Malgoth approached at the tail end of this scuffle, and Mauzha raised a hand to him in greeting. He nodded at her, then looked at Berrvagh.

"No need to wear yourself out, son. Get up." he barked, not unkindly, but stern. Berrvagh leapt to his feet, looking up at his father warily.

"Are we going hunting now, Father?" he asked, almost timid. Malgoth shook his great horned head.

"No, at least, not I." He looked at Berrvagh sternly. "Today you go out on your own. To prove yourself as a man to your family, and your tribe." His words carried weight, and a sudden silence fell over the family. Tarosh and Ovraghn looked up at their eldest brother with wide eyes, reverent.

"A-are you serious?" Berrvagh queried, tilting his head to the side. Malgoth chuckled.

"Of course I'm serious! Your horns are beginning to grow! While they might not be very long now, it's time you set out on your own." he slapped his thigh. "Don't worry my son, If you're anything like me you'll return home with much honor." Berrvagh looked sullen for a moment, then for the first time in weeks appeared enthusiastic about something.

"I will prepare at once!" he darted within the hut. Malgoth sat next to Mauzha, looking pleased. She offered him the remnants of breakfast, which he ate gratefully.

"When will you leave with him?" She asked quietly. Malgoth chewed for a moment, then said,

"As soon as I finish eating, I'd think! He's got the fire in his blood now, he'll want to be gone the instant he's ready." He gave his only daughter a serious look. "But do not fret too much, Mauzha. He will return." Mauzha nodded, fears not entirely assuaged. Tarosh looked up at his father seriously.

"Father can I go as well? I think my horns are coming in too!" he put his fingers to his temples. There were slight bumps there, but nothing close to actual horns. Malgoth reached out and put one of his large hands on his head.

"Not this year, Tarosh. Maybe next year. Don't be too jealous of your brother, you'll have plenty of honor to claim for yourself when the time comes." the boy looked a bit put out, but he nodded respectfully to his father and sat next to Ovraghn, who seemed to be paying the scene no mind, munching on his breakfast.

* * *

By the time Berrvagh was ready, the sun was burning high in the sky. It was uncomfortably warm and dry under it's relentless gaze, but the boy seemed to be in an unshakable good spirit. He had an intensity to his eyes, and a grimace of determination set into his face. He wore no weapons, and had no pack, only a simple leather jerkin and a pair of trousers.

Tarosh had attempted to give him one of the many bone charms he possessed, but his brother turned it down.

"I need my own luck little brother! I can't become a man if I rely on yours too!" he said to Tarosh, trying in his own way to cheer up the now depressed looking boy. "Save them for when you make this trip yourself!"

They left without much fanfare, though Mauzha couldn't help but make a tearful goodbye and made sure Berrvagh's shaggy hair looked somewhat decent. Ovraghn cried loudly as he said goodbye, nearly crushing his brother in a brutal hug. Tarosh just hung back behind Mauzha, waving his brother off.

Malgoth and his son set off down the road. When they returned Berrvagh would no longer be a child, but a man. Mauzha was equal measure proud and afraid. She started as Ovraghn blubbered loudly, and blew his nose into his shirt. She made a disgusted noise, and shooed him back to the hut to change his shirt.

* * *

That night things seemed empty without the constant snide remarks from Berrvagh. Ovraghn had placed a deer skull atop a rock at his spot around the firepit, in an attempt to fill the void. Tarosh seemed the most upset at the loss of his brother. While they quarreled often, they were quite close. His brother's denial of a charm seemed to have affected him deeply. He sat in his spot, dinner untouched carving a new charm.

"...What are you making now, Tarosh?" Mauzha asked curiously, pointedly ignoring Ovraghn who was attempting to feed 'Berrvagh' some broth. Tarosh was silent for a few moments, then held it out for her to see. It wasn't obvious at first what it was, but the longer Mauzha gazed it dawned on her, the wings were unmistakable "A dragon?"

Tarosh nodded mutely then said,

"I remember when Flametongue visited with Firesword. I'm trying to make it look like her." he seemed to brighten, as he talked about his work. "I will need to find the right blue dye for it though, I wouldn't want to insult her by making her look ugly." Mauzha chuckled. She remembered the great dragon Saphira. Though she had only glimpsed her, it was hard to forget the appearance of a creature so spectacular, a beautiful huntress of the sky.

"Blue is a hard color to make Tarosh, but if I find the right kind of plants to make a dye, I will give it to you straight away. We can't have noble Flametongue looking like some bleached lizard!" She exclaimed. Tarosh nodded excitedly, and returned to his carving. The aura of gloom about him seemed to have lessened, and Mauzha smiled, her job complete.

Suddenly Ovraghn frowned at them,

"I smell something funny." He said, looking around. Tarosh smirked at him.

"Maybe it's you, you need a bath, stinky." Ovraghn shook his head however, looking quite troubled for one so young. ThenMauzha smelled it too, and it chilled her blood. Smoke.

"Stay with your brother, Ovraghn." She got to her feet and went about the village to see if anyone's campfire had been neglected. Several other urgals appeared as well, looking troubled. Her worst fears were realized as someone screamed "_FIRE__!". _She whipped her head around, and her heart seemed to drop into her stomach. A sickly, flickering, eerie glow was penetrating the darkness higher up in the Spine, along with great billowing clouds of smoke.

The village erupted into chaos, and Mauzha was hard pressed to make her way back to Ovraghn and Tarosh.

"It's a fire, we need to pack our bags, and retreat down the mountain." She called to them over the commotion. The boys surged to their feet, darting into the hut and began to pack all their precious belongings. Mauzha packed food, and waterskins. Her head buzzed, it was absurd for a fire to have started in the dead calm. The forest was dry, yes, but there had been no spark, no storm with lightning. Unless some fool had left a campfire unattended up in the mountains.

Crushing dread clutched at her, as she thought of her father and brother still out in the wilderness. Would they be able to escape the fire? Surely her father had taken Berrvagh south, down the mountain, instead of higher up into it's peaks. She had to trust her father to survive, he was wily, and had lived through his own fair share of forest fires. By the time she emerged from the hut she was dismayed. The village was swarming like an overturned anthill, and the smell of smoke and burnt pine filled the air, and made it difficult to breathe properly. Through the crowd she saw a group of kull warriors escorting the frail Herndall down the mountain first, followed by several other villagers eager to be away from the fire.

Ovraghn sniffled, the poor boy looked terrified. He clung to Mauzha's arm when he emerged from the hut.

"Mauzha, Tarosh went out the back door, I don't know where he went." the boy wailed, nearly throwing her to the ground as he tugged at her. Mauzha groaned audibly, clutching at her heart. She wasn't quite sure how much of this stress she could take. "Ovraghn, go stay with Gatan and her mate," She pushed him twards their elderly neighbors, who welcomed him into their little group, but gave Mauzha worried looks.

"I'm going to find Tarosh, I will meet up with you as soon as I can!" She hefted her bag and dashed into the fray. She was jostled violently, but she had been in her fair share of wrestling matches to shrug off the pain and discomfort. Running here and there Mauzha checked everywhere she could think of, but Tarosh was nowhere to be seen. The training grounds were empty, all of the young boys he considered friends were already tightly grouped up with their families, hurrying down the path that led into the valley.

After the initial frenzy of movement, the village seemed still as the majority of it's inhabitants had already evacuated. It was almost dreamlike, seeing the village so peaceful and quiet, with the raging inferno that was now just barely visible through the trees. Great clouds of smoke wafted into the village, sending Mauzha into a coughing fit. One of the remaining Kull warriors hailed her, and jogged up to her.

"You must leave, it is not safe to be here anymore." He looked back at the fire, while the fear did not show on his face she could see it in his eyes.

"My brother is lost, I need to find him." The Kull scowled at her, his thick shaggy eyebrows meeting.

"...Do not linger longer than necessary then." he turned and joined the rest of the stragglers. Frantic, Mauzha pelted through the village once more. She remained searching until the smoke became too thick. The air was hazy now, and she had a hard time finding the path the others had taken. Coughing violently, she fanned the air about her trying to clear it to a breathable consistency. A dark shape darted out of the smoke and collided with her violently, sending both of them to the ground.

Mauzha got to her hands and knees, still coughing, then gasped with suprise as Tarosh threw his arms around her neck. With great effort, she got to her feet, still holding onto her brother.  
"Come on, we need to get out of here," She wheezed, the smoke made her eyes sting. Tarosh nodded up at her, his face pale, he clutched his traveling bag to his chest for dear life. And together they fled their home, into the depths of the Spine.

* * *

~Author's Note~

Bwah! I'm glad that's finally done! Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read this story, it means a lot. I'm not the most skilled or experienced writer out there, so any constructive criticism you might have is very welcome!

Stay tuned for the next chapter!


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